My bliss, your diction;
My heart’s inscription,
Your Word, nix tricks and jokes not.

It cuts. It convicts.
Tastes rich, thick its sips,
Your Word to my lips burns hot.

Taught me truth and right.
Taut string, me the kite;
Your Word tugs—in flight, I soar!

Up, up! from the depths,
When I hear God’s breath,
Your Word: “No more death,” it roars!

And I limp out my door, hopeful
again, continuing homeword.